


Closing Circuits

by fanatic_by_definition



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Crying, First Kiss, Fluff, Hugs, I Love You, M/M, Mind Reading, alternate 8x23 plot, episode coda: s08e23 Sacrifice, mention of Meg Masters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-26
Updated: 2013-06-26
Packaged: 2017-12-16 06:46:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/859085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanatic_by_definition/pseuds/fanatic_by_definition
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Never once had this scenario crossed Dean's mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closing Circuits

**Author's Note:**

> *whispers nervously* This is my first Destiel fanfiction.....please be kind.....
> 
> I started writing this before "Sacrifice" aired, so that's why it's an alternate plot. I hope you all like it! Lemme know what you think in the comments, pls. Thanks for reading.....enjoy!

This is it. The final trial to shut the gates of Heaven. And it sucks.  
  
Dean had known, of course, that whatever it was it wouldn't be easy or painless. He'd known that it would be a sacrifice of something precious, something most likely irreplaceable. He'd steeled himself against the possibility that it would be a human life - like Kevin's or Garth's or even, God forbid, Sam's - and somehow, he'd made peace with that thought.  
  
Never once had _this_ scenario crossed his mind.  
  
Now that he thinks about it, it makes sense - an angel's Grace being the final part of the whole fucked-up ritual. The moment Kevin had translated that part of the tablet, Dean's stomach had dropped through his feet and he'd immediately suggested summoning some random angel down from Heaven to sacrifice; he hadn't even wanted to consider using Cas. Any other angel he'd be more than happy to de-wing - it would end this thing and all would be right with the world again, or as right as it could get - but not Castiel. Not _his_ angel. He'd die himself before he let anything kill the trenchcoated puzzle piece that's been missing from his life for, well, all of it.  
  
Some good _that_ did him.

Dean had tried to tell himself that he felt so strongly about this because Castiel was his friend, his brother, his family. He'd desperately tried to convince himself that the only reason he felt sick and empty when he imagined a life without the nerdy little featherface was because he had gotten used to his company and didn't want it to go away. But he knew, somewhere deep down in a place that he hasn't even let Sam go near, that there was something else there. There always had been. He hadn't wanted to call it "love" just yet, but the more he'd thought about it...

Yeah. It was love. Dean Winchester was in- _fucking_ -love with an Angel of the Lord who didn't get pop culture references, didn't know how to tie a stupid tie properly, and probably didn't love him back.

Just his luck that he'd figured this out the day before Castiel basically committed suicide.  
  
Cas had volunteered readily for the cause, of course, and any attempts Dean had made to change his mind failed miserably - the bastard was stubborn. He, Sam, and Kevin had located an abandoned warehouse about three miles out from the bunker that would be perfect for the arduous ritual of removing an angel's essence from his being, while Dean had "gone on a supply run".  
  
In reality, he'd driven the Impala about half a mile before parking on the side of a dirt road and staring out the windshield for an hour, drowning in thoughts of blue eyes and shadowy wings and light that could burn a man's eyes out of his skull. How could Cas give that up?  
  
How could Dean _let_ him?  
  
It turns out, on one condition and one condition only: that Dean be the last one to see Castiel with his Grace intact - in other words, that Dean be the only one to go with Cas to the warehouse and be with him as the very thing that makes him who he is is ripped away from him forever. Cas himself is the one who'd made this request, and Sam and Kevin had reluctantly agreed. Dean had been shocked, but he'd gone with it too, making Castiel smile somewhat sadly.  
  
Now here they are, just the two of them outside the run-down warehouse that Sam had prepared with the proper sigils and bodily fluids the night before. The only sound in the still air is the wind whistling through the broken windows of the building, making something inside rattle. The place is destroyed, but somehow Dean thinks there's more inside it than he'll have inside him at the end of this hellish day.  
  
Dean is standing beside the Impala, numb, watching as one of the two good things that he still has in his life starts to walk towards the giant warehouse doors. He wants so badly to _stop it,_ stop this, stop everything in its tracks and just _hold on_ to Castiel and keep him from doing this, from leaving.  
  
 _Why does everyone always have to leave?_  
  
Castiel is almost halfway to the building when Dean can't keep his mouth shut any longer. He takes a few steps forward, uncrossing his arms, and speaks, his voice ringing loudly in the chilly Autumn air.  
  
"Cas...Cas, wait."  
  
The angel stops in his tracks and turns, his cerulean eyes still glinting with determination but softening as his gaze comes to rest on Dean's face. "Yes, Dean?"  
  
The hunter hesitates for a moment, considering his options - he could let Castiel walk into that warehouse and get his Grace (most probably along with his life) ripped out of him without letting him know just exactly what it would do to Dean. It would make this whole farewell situation a little less depressing, and if Dean's honest with himself he kind of prefers this option above the other choice - which is, of course, telling the angel how he feels.  
  
It would clear the air between them, at least, before the trenchcoat-wearing martyr walks to his demise to seal those damned gates and save both Heaven and the insignificant rock floating in space that's become his true home. It would be painful, but at least Castiel would know, and that's all Dean's wanted for the past few months now. Above all else...he just wants the angel to _know._  
  
"Dean?" Castiel asks again, narrowing his eyes minutely. "Is there something wrong?"  
  
Dean blinks rapidly, dropping his gaze. "No, I-I just..." _Ah, screw it._ _Option Two it is._ He looks up. "Just...c'mere for a sec, will ya?"  
  
Castiel, confused, complies with the hunter's request and walks over to him, stopping a few feet in front of him.  
  
They stand there for several seconds, staring at each other as if expecting a punch to be thrown, until Dean gives himself a mental kick in the ass and clears his throat. "Listen, Cas," he begins somewhat shakily, "there's something I've been wanting to tell you for, uh...for what feels like forever, actually."  
  
Castiel's focus is completely turned on the human before him. "Yes? What is it?"  
  
There's silence between them again for several seconds. Dean just looks into Cas's eyes and blinks a few times, his mouth opening and closing uselessly, the words somehow not managing to get unstuck from his throat. _Dammit,_ he thinks. _The one time you had the chance and you blew it, Winchester. Smooth going._  
  
Then, just as Castiel's about to turn back around, an idea pops into Dean's head and he blurts, "Read my mind!"  
  
Castiel looks perplexed. He tilts his head to the side, and Dean has to bite back a grin at that image. "What?" the angel asks. "But you said you didn't-"  
  
"I know what I said, Cas." _This is it. This is fucking_ it. _Don't screw this up._ "Just...read it now, okay?"  
  
"...Alright." Castiel sounds uncertain, but he stares directly into Dean's eyes and peers inwards.  
  
And Dean closes his eyes, concentrates harder than he ever has in his life, and _remembers_.  
  
Events, words, feelings - he recollects them all for Castiel to see and feel himself. He remembers how it feels every time Castiel leaves him without an explanation. Remembers the anger, the sadness that overpowers him every time he thinks Cas is going to stay - and is proven wrong. He remembers the joy he'd felt when he'd found the broken angel washing his filthy face by a river in Purgatory, and the warmth of Cas's body in his arms as he'd hugged him. He remembers the jolt of surprise and interest he'd felt when he first saw Cas smile a genuine smile - he also remembers the anguish that had ridden his heart when he'd seen the empty, drugged-up smiles on the bearded face of Future Cas. He remembers vowing to himself that he would never let his angel turn into that. He thinks about how difficult it is to resist touching Cas whenever they're standing too close to each other; about the smell of Cas - rain and air and smoke and oceans and home. He recalls the calm feeling that Castiel's touch brings, how the last time he'd been healed it had been with a full hand cupping the side of his face instead of with a mere two-finger forehead tap. He remembers things they've said to each other, things like "You're different", "I'd rather have you", "Don't ever change", "I always come when you call", "I did it, all of it, for you", "We do share a more profound bond", "I'm so sorry", "I need you".  
  
Most importantly, he says everything that he's too cowardly to say out loud. He tries to form all the sentiments into a series of separate sentences, but it ends up sounding more like _Cas Cas CAS I love you I've loved you for so long and I need you not just your help or your halo or your wings but you in person your smile your scent YOU because I feel lost when you're gone and you've hurt me so much but I forgive you I FORGIVE you because I love you and I'll never stop I'll never stop Castiel you're my miracle my blessing my angel and you're more than family you're my heart and soul the reason my soul's so bright is because it's actually you it's your mirror Cas you're so beautiful and you don't even realize it and you might hate me for saying all this but I don't care I just know that when you're gone I'm gonna be a complete WRECK without you so I wish you didn't have to do this but I'm gonna let you because it's the right thing to do and because I love you so fucking much Cas my angel my soulmate my only I love you Castiel..._  
  
There. He's said it. Dean takes a deep breath and opens his eyes, frightened at first to meet Castiel's. But when he does, he's absolutely shocked at what he finds.  
  
Castiel is crying. His shoulders aren't moving, but there are tears falling from his eyes and Dean can hardly believe it. As far as he knows, the angel's never cried before. He looks so broken, so apologetic, and his gaze bores deep into the hunter's, never once breaking their connection.  
  
Out of all the reactions Dean had expected from the angel, this hadn't even been on the list of possibilities.  
  
"Dean...I..." Cas's voice is weak and trembling. He looks as though he's just been offered the entire universe on a silver platter and has no strength to reach out and take it. "I...oh, Dean, I'm-"  
  
"No." Dean cuts Castiel off before he reveals something that'll completely shatter them both. He stares at the angel hard, trying to continue feeding him thoughts through his eyes.  
  
The corner of his mouth twitches up minutely in a hollow smirk. "I guess I just wanted to...get that off my chest," he says, and dammit, he can feel his own eyes starting to well up as he watches Castiel's beautiful face crumble even more. It almost changes his mind about this whole brilliant plan - almost. "And now that you're, well...aware of all that, you should...you should go."  
  
But Castiel shakes his head and sniffs. "N-No, Dean, I can't, not now, n-not after-"  
  
"Yes, you can." Dean smiles tightly, trying desperately to keep his own tears at bay. "You said it yourself, it's the only way to finish all this. You're doing it to save _me,_ remember?" _Just like everything else you've ever done. God, why did it take me this long to-_  "Just...go."  
  
Cas just looks at him. He doesn't move.  
  
"I said _go,_ you sonuvabitch, before I shove you through those doors myself." Dean's voice is getting weaker with every word he speaks, along with his resolve.  
  
A few more seconds pass in heavy silence before Castiel finally gives a short jerk of a nod and, after maintaining eye contact with his hunter for another moment, turns back towards the warehouse doors. He re-starts his slow journey to them with weighted footsteps.  
  
The moment Castiel's back turns, Dean quietly breaks. The tears overflow and streak down his face, one after the other in constant succession, and he tears his eyes away from the mop of dark hair in front of him to stare at the gravel beneath his own boots. He feels positively empty already - with every step Cas takes, he pulls with him a piece of Dean's own essence, his own "Grace", his soul.  
  
And it _hurts._  
  
Dean can't let that get to him, though. That's not how he was raised. He just has to brush this whole thing off and focus on what the end result will be: a saved world, free of trouble-causing dicks-with-wings and pissed off demons. Cas is saving the world right now, so Dean's gotta just suck it up and smile through it like the good little heartless soldier he was brought up to be.  
  
He tries. _So_ hard. He closes his eyes and takes a deep, shuddering breath as the tears that he wills to be his last spill from his eyes and land silently in the dirt below. Clenching his teeth, his jaw quivering, he raises his head up and opens his eyes, looking straight ahead. _Face it, you Goddamned coward. You'll be fine. You'll be -_  
  
His father's voice in his head is interrupted the moment his tear-blurred vision focuses. Castiel has once again stopped in his tracks and is facing Dean with a desperate expression on his own sodden face, looking for all the world like he's given up. He shakes his head slowly, sapphire eyes still locked on Dean's emerald ones, and takes a hesitant step away from the doors.  
  
Dean blinks once, still refusing to let hope grab hold of him. "...Cas?" he says softly.  
  
Two more steps, a bit more confident now. Then the angel surges forward, the gravel crunching under his shoes as he runs towards his hunter, his charge, his Dean.  
  
The collision is rough and jarring, nearly knocking the wind out of Dean's lungs. Cas is hugging him, holding him so tightly that he's surprised a few of his ribs don't crack. Still confused and resisting the hopeful glow that's starting to build within him, Dean returns the embrace comparatively weakly.  
  
Then Castiel pulls back and kisses him.  
  
It's messy and uncoordinated and Castiel's inexperience is all too apparent, but it's amazing in so many ways and Dean thinks that he could never get enough of it. All at once, thoughts and emotions that are not his own fill Dean's mind, as if the connection of their mouths is closing some sort of circuit between them. Castiel's voice rings in his head, screaming and whispering at the same time:  
  
 _Dean how could you think you were alone in this how could you not see that I wanted this too that I've always wanted this I have waited so long for this so vastly long you cannot possibly understand it you stupid mortal you stupid STUPID beautiful precious miracle of a man I need you too and I'm sorry I didn't tell you that before I was scared but I'm not anymore because none of this is worth it if it hurts you NONE of it I have left you before and I never knew what it did to you but now that I do I will never leave you again NEVER not even with the planet in the balance I WILL NOT LEAVE YOU Dean Dean please I am selfish I know I am but I cannot help it because I love you I love you Dean I love you..._  
  
Dean falls to pieces.  
  
With almost celestial strength, he grabs Cas around the waist and presses him tightly against his own chest, opening his mouth and inviting his angel in. Tears pour from his eyes once again, but he ignores them as he ravishes Castiel's mouth hard enough to bruise, swallowing whimpers and choked-off sobs. Castiel responds by pulling his arms up and winding them securely around Dean's neck, and his shaking fingers find their way into soft brown-blonde hair. He tilts his head and licks into Dean's mouth with a low whine, and he's welcomed warmly. Dean holds him close, outright refusing to let him move anywhere. They _fit,_ he realizes vaguely in the back of his clouded mind. They've always been a perfect match.  
  
They savor this for several minutes, it seems, never once breaking apart in any way, until Dean reluctantly ends the kiss and gasps for breath. He leans his forehead gently against Cas's, eyes still closed, feeling every rapid heartbeat and heat wave and exhale coming from the other man. He can hardly believe what is happening, thinks it's too good to be true, but the six feet of warm, quivering angel in his arms assures him that this is in fact reality. He feels strangely cleansed, and briefly thinks back to the time Cas kissed Meg before banishing every thought of that... _creature_ from his mind. Castiel was his now, and no one would be kissing him anymore but Dean. It's a strangely comforting thought.  
  
After several seconds of breathing in the other's air, Dean's eyes flicker open and he stares into Castiel's own. Swallowing, he says in a hoarse voice, "The trials..."  
  
"As I expressed before," Castiel breathes, blinking slowly, "I am not leaving you again, Dean Winchester." He drags one hand down from Dean's hair to the side of Dean's face. Gentle fingertips caress Dean's skin as if it's made of spun gold, lingering momentarily on the clusters of freckles dusting the hunter's cheekbone. "I'll let Heaven burn, I'll watch my brothers fall, I'll take a blade to my Father's throat - but I will not hurt you. Not again. I...I don't think I could ever forgive myself, even if you could."  
  
And Dean...doesn't know what to say. How does one respond when faced with a promise - a pledge - an _oath_ like that?  
  
So he simply smiles and takes Castiel's hand in his own, squeezing it tightly. After a moment, he gets his voice and his thoughts back. "What did I ever do," he murmurs almost reverently, "to deserve you?"  
  
Castiel thinks for barely a second before replying, his eyes boring into Dean's: "You fought when there was no hope of winning. You stayed when every instinct told you to run. You forgave when forgiveness was impossible. You drowned in the depths of hopelessness and fought your way back to the surface. You rescued sinners and the righteous alike. You gave so much and asked for nothing in return. You put the safety of strangers above your own. You loved the unloveable, saved the unredeemable, mended the irreparable." The angel pauses and blinks away a few more tears. He smiles. "You taught me that wings don't make someone an angel - and that not all angels have wings. Dean Winchester, you are so unfathomably remarkable, and you don't even see it. I beg you to let me show you just how much you are loved."  
  
"I..." Once again, Dean has no idea how to respond to the angel's words. He's never been told any of that before; never been thanked or rewarded for all he's done to save the world these past years - both he and Sam have gone forgotten in the history books. Never before has Dean thought of himself as "remarkable" in any way - he's just done what he was told like the soldier his father made him into. He's nothing special.  
  
But there's something in Castiel's eyes as he says those things, something warm and fervent and _desperate_ that makes Dean believe that maybe, just maybe -  
  
"D'you mean all that?" he says quietly, glancing down bashfully at his dusty boots. He has to ask, has to be certain that he isn't hearing things.  
  
Castiel blinks, seemingly offended that Dean would even think of him lying about something like that. "Every word," he replies evenly. Their eyes lock once more, and Cas gives the hand still grasped in his own a reassuring squeeze. "I could not lie to someone whom I love as much as I love you, Dean. You are amazing, in every way imaginable, and I fully intend to remind you of that each day I am able. It is the least you deserve."  
  
And just like that, as if those words had been a spell...Dean believes him.  
  
He lets out a single sob and tugs Castiel's face towards his own, initiating another kiss.  
  
After a minute or so of exploring each other in this new and intimate way, Dean is exhausted and Cas has managed to become a grade-A kisser. The hunter looks forward to seeing how fast he can pick up on the other things.  
  
Once more, their foreheads touch and they smile breathlessly at each other, moss green and ethereal blue eyes studying and learning and memorizing and just _staring_ into each other. Dean swallows before speaking again: "Here's the deal, Cas - I'll let you, uh...'show me how much I'm loved' or whatever, as long as you let me return the favor." It's impossibly chick-flicky, yes, but at this moment Dean couldn't give a single shit. "Okay?"  
  
Castiel's gaze flits back and forth between Dean's eyes for a moment. The hunter knows that the angel has as much trouble accepting affection as he himself does, but he prays that something in that feathery brain will snap and let him have this ounce of happiness - if there's anyone who deserves to be happy and loved as much as Dean, it's his angel.  
  
Finally, Castiel relaxes a bit. "Okay," he murmurs, closing his eyes. "That's...I...okay. I think I can do that."  
  
"Good." Dean pecks him lightly on the tip of his nose. "Thanks. Now c'mon, we gotta get back to the bunker and figure something else out - Sammy's not gonna be too happy that he spent all that time on those sigils and stuff for nothing, but he'll get over it."  
  
The two of them slide into the Impala, Dean driving and Cas finally sitting shotgun like he's always wanted to. They pull away from the old warehouse and Dean doesn't look back once.  
  
A few minutes into the drive, Dean feels a set of strong, warm fingers wrap around his own and glances down. Castiel has woven their fingers together tightly, the cuff of his trenchcoat sleeve brushing softly against the skin of Dean's bare wrist. His thumb begins to draw light circles on the back of Dean's hand, comforting the hunter in ways he'd never thought he could possibly be comforted.  
  
Maybe it's the mojo. Maybe it's something else.  
  
All Dean knows is he never wants it to stop. He clings onto the angel's hand and continues driving.  
  
If this is what he's been missing out on by avoiding chick-flick moments, then dammit, he's renting _The Notebook_ and studying up.  
  
###


End file.
